


King of Kings

by Restlessme



Category: Kings
Genre: Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-20
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 15:44:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Restlessme/pseuds/Restlessme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles of the Kings fandom</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Change

Revelations of his father's influence over him, does not change him (it never influenced him he slowly realizes).

He does not change when his father's body is cold in the ground, nor when he silently mourns the death in the arms of someone he'd once detested; the _golden_ hero (better than him).

He does not change (doesn't realize he does), his heart does not thaw from it's icy grave; he does not want to change...but he does.


	2. Bad News

His teeth are ragged against flesh carved in the lines of war (the smell of blood so thick in the air, he's stopped breathing); his breath is slowing down.   
  
Long since thrown down the confines of being a prince (a liar), his lips drag across lips as dry, cracked as his own (he slips down into hell, he's sure of it).  
  
His breath is slow and his skin is cold (his heart slows _slowsdownsoquicklythereisnolife_ ), with a tight grimace; he looks at the grim reaper before him (shining blond hair and earnest blue eyes...lips redder than the blood dripping from him).


	3. She Broke My Heart So I Broke His Jaw

He's angry, so  _fucking_  angry; he could scream it to the heavens and never be finished. They've never been close, close on the outside at least. But he feels her pain, knows her better than anyone else.  
  
Knows how she cries at night,  _every_  night because she can never be free again. Once prized princess, the family's black sheep for nine months. He could beat his fists bloody against the  _icon's_  face.  
  
Bruise that face until his blood stained the floor, he's furious. Bites his lip and blood spews in his mouth, chokes him (gags him).  
  
 _"I didn't know, she never told me."_    
The solider blames someone else (Jack should have let him die with lies). His fist hits the future King's face, something cracks (inside him).


	4. Closed Doors

A princess does not gasp under the harsh touches of a twin (does not look at him with darkening eyes).   
  
The solider does not bend to the will of his superiors, he bends them. A gentle man turned controlling, demanding lover with the click of a lock. He grasps slender wrists in his hands, powers over her, whispers things for only them to hear.  
  
Prince ashamed of his desires (desires  _so_  long hidden) gives into his nature. He battles for control, bruises pale flesh beneath his body, swallows their moans.  
  
They lay together after, legs twisted (it's difficult to tell where a pair ends and another begins). Only Michelle fills the air with mindless chatter, long practiced speeches to be aired before her father.  
  
The door opens and they quickly go their own way with lingering glances and fading bruises.


	5. Crawling

Jack is rescued during the night when he dreams of the dead, dreams a dream of people who once were. The glorified (damned) prince is roused from his slumber with quick shakes that send the soldier in him scrambling to fight.   
  
He kisses the blond tresses (the man who would be King) with a yearning long forgotten in his body, tries to silence the sobs (he was slowly dying; a breath of fresh air). They escape through the open door, iron strong in the air; hand warm clasped around his own.  
  
Michelle is not a lowly princess anymore. Her prison is the damnation of a born bastard, a son so quickly taken from her, she does not remember the sound of his cries. She sits in the darkest of corners, in the darkest of moods. Michelle is rescued as strong arms lift her up and shield her eyes from what she must hear. Screams echo through the halls, the sound of a knife silently slitting a throat.  
  
They crawl away in the dark and entwine as the sun rises above them, coated with filth of what the kingdom has become.


	6. Pawn

Next in line, and he is the knight on the chessboard of life; a severely underused piece.  
  
The pawn does not bend under his touch, does not fall, does not cower in the shadows as he should; the pawn bends the knight backwards and lips smash together painfully.  
  
He's forgotten what other emotions feel like completely, so used to controlling everything(one) around him until he's imposing like the sun in the sky (he bends).


	7. Future

They never expected a future alive, let alone a future together (each one locked away in their own hell). She clings to them, like froth to sea, bares her naked body for all _them_  to see; no one else but ever them she vows for the rest of her life.  
  
They are flimsy imitations at independent, clinging to each other with bated breath as the days pass.


	8. Pray

Her lips chap with prayers  _(praying to God she vowed her life to; she's betrayed him)_.

This is obviously a punishment she so readily deserved. Her words falter for a moment, the tears pool at the corners of her eyes. She bites her lip hard, draws blood that paints a river down her chin. Pale hand rests on swelling stomach, takes comfort in the being moving inside her ( _only evidence that she's loved_ ).

Michelle finds herself wondering if he'll come for her, if he'll answer her prayers. Chapped lips mold around a single prayer; his name.

_David._   



	9. Forget Me Not

He's stumbling through the dark, ignorant as a newborn. His breath comes in short shudders, his mind swims with confusion that leaves him dizzy on the floor.

_He's not - no he's not, no reason to think it._

Jack's head slams onto marble flooring, his face twisting in pain. He sucks in a breath, holds back his screams as they claw at his legs, leave them bloody stumps. He's lost, so lost in his own mind (always has been, just refused to know it).

A cool hand grasps his own, pulls him into warm embrace. Lips touch his forehead and he utters the name, "Joseph."

He wakes in bed, frightened that he can no longer remember the face.

 


	10. Forever

_"Nothing lasts forever."_  
  
When Prince Jonathan takes his last breath, the sole reporter on the scene misunderstands the meaning of his words.  
  
The prince grasps onto the future King's collar, his lips cracked and bloody. He whispers the words into blond hair that chokes him, chokes him for all the better.  
  
The prince's words are plastered across the world as his dying declaration that his father's almost dictator-like ruling was meant to end, a new era to begin.  
  
But he is wrong.   
  
David struggles to keep the tears from burning paths down his face as he stumbles across the field layered with blood.   
  
The king is dead and all do not mourn the loss. He finds Jack gasping for breath, so near death (the reaper leaves a shadow across him).  
  
He leans towards his lover, the man he fights so fiercely with and has learned to love all the more. Jack grabs his collar tightly, pulling his face towards his for one last touch of skin to skin.  
  
"Nothing lasts forever," he whispers, smiling with teeth stained red.


	11. Tithe

It's a tax upon his soul, damning him ( _pact with the devil signed in his blood_ ); the wound never heals.  
  
Betrayed his family in a sense; sided with royalty in a war that killed his father who fought with his last breath.  
  
A tax upon his soul, David prays for the religion of royalty ( _bodies entwining in dance he's never practiced_ ).


	12. Silence

He wears the crown upon his head, tarnished and dull; pistol heavy in his hand. King  _Jonathan_  even the sound of it sounds so weird in his thoughts (bodies of butterflies litter the street under him).  
  
David regards him, much like one regards an anomaly, his eyes blue (so blue). The gun is at his side, his grip is hesitant, his expression speaks what he cannot.  
  
Jack grins, raises his free hand and grasps the crown between calloused fingers. He throws the crown as a shot rings out, disrupting the silence of a deserted kingdom.   
  
The gun falls from David's hand as he surges forward not to catch but to catch a man. His heart seizes as his throat chokes up.  
  
Jack's eyes are glassy and unseeing, but his lips are warm.


	13. War

The war against his  _father_  is won with blood staining his hands, the taste of it thick in his mouth.  
The war against his father is won with a simple bullet to the head (after feigned loyalty). He can still see the look of almost  _pride_  stretch across his father's face before it explodes in blood and brain.  
  
Jack kills his father, oh yes he does. Prince Jonathan slaughters his father much like one took down a pig (he did not shed a tear until night was upon him; thick).  
  
The war is won and many consider him a tyrant, but Prince Jack does not become King Jack (those  _damned_  butterflies haunt him).  
  
The war is won when David walks through the empty halls, skin weathered by constant sun. Dirt is smeared across his face (suit of a fugitive), but he is not defeated. His tired legs make their way down halls that are easy to recall from deep in his mind.  
  
Jack is waiting when he comes, lazily seated upon center seat; room empty as his heart. He looks at him with contempt, something darker lurking in his eyes.  
  
"Come take your throne from me," he whispers, knuckles white from their grip on the chair. David slowly walks down the stairs, shadow of a limp to his steps.  
  
"I won't take what belongs to me," he replies, all sort of boyish farm boy gone. His tone is strong, his voice is sure.  
  
His hand threads through Jack's hair and pulls him towards him, lips crushing together in an almost painful ( _he deserveswants this_ ) way.  
  
The war is won with blood and his hands and blood in his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and hopefully this does something for you.


End file.
